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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272582">Party Lines</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chikabiddy/pseuds/Chikabiddy'>Chikabiddy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Veronica Mars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, F/M, Political, Slow Burn, alternative universe, lv au week 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:20:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chikabiddy/pseuds/Chikabiddy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This may or may not be a rage-induced story following certain developments which occurred after Super Tuesday. I’ll leave you to have all the wild speculation you like. ;)</p><p>Lilly is the President, Veronica is her VP - Logan is the head Secret Service. Hijinks ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>LV AU WEEK 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowBobcat/gifts">Marshmellow Bobcat (MellowBobcat)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have a whole outline for this story (the first story I've ever planned start to finish and everything in between before writing any scenes and I think it'll pay off in the end. Whenever that end actually gets written). </p><p>I wanted to share something for LV AU week, especially since this was written specifically for LV AU week, so here is Day 1</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lilly rubbed the heels of her hands into her tired, burning eyes. She was sure they would be bloodshot if she looked in the mirror. Too bad they weren’t bloodshot from something fun, just lack of sleep and far too much staring at the papers before her. She returned her attention to the current object vexing her, reviewing the bill before her for the hundredth time. It should be a guaranteed win but American politics had always been more about optics than what people really needed. Luckily, Lilly had always been good at playing a crowd.</p><p>She heard Veronica’s footsteps and prepared for when her head popped into view around the doorframe. Veronica loved to lecture her about staying up so late without understanding the irony in doing so. Lilly let her dote and baby on her; she’d always needed to feel like she had some kind of control and Lilly had no intention of taking that away. Even if it was misguided.</p><p>“Have you even tried to sleep?”</p><p>Veronica sounded as tired as she felt. They could both use a vacation…</p><p>“Of course not,” she responded.</p><p>Veronica walked into the room, hands on her hips. “You’re going to exhaust yourself if you keep going like this.”</p><p>“I can rest once this is over.” Lilly waved a hand, dismissing the idea of sleep as she did so.</p><p>Veronica reached the desk, seating herself across from Lilly and giving her a piercing stare, reading into the stress lines, deep purple bags and barely-styled hair. At another point in her life, being so laid bare would have left Lilly feeling exposed and uncomfortably vulnerable. She was in a better place now, grateful someone knew her well enough to read her like a well-loved book. Veronica would know when she reached the brink, when she needed to be pulled back, and Veronica will know now is not that time. She finished reading what Lilly knew she would and with a sigh, slumped down into the chair under the weight of her own exhaustion.</p><p>"You said that about your last policy proposal, too," she reminded her.</p><p>Lilly reached across the desk, holding out a hand for Veronica to take.</p><p>“One more week, my friend." She ignored Veronica's insinuation that overworking was her pattern. "We’ll get those idiots in Congress on our side and get this thing passed.”</p><p>She emphasized her conviction with a gentle squeeze and Veronica returned in kind, accepting the avoidance.</p><p>“Are you going to be okay? Proposing it, I mean. I know what it means to you.”</p><p>Lilly stilled her hand, fighting the urge to pull out of Veronica’s grip. She knew this would come up eventually, though she hoped Veronica would leave this particular driving force alone. There were plenty of other reasons this bill was important to her.</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” she responded, more clipped than she intended.</p><p>Veronica didn’t deserve her temper. But she, ever assessing, knew Lilly wasn’t ready for this conversation. She gave a light squeeze and pulled back, giving Lilly the space, the air, the time she needed. Veronica had always given her what she needed most, even when she herself didn’t know what that was.</p><p>Veronica brought her hands together and played with her fingers. Lilly saw her considering what to say next. Something was weighing on her heavily to cause such hesitation; Veronica rarely watched herself this way around her, allowing herself to be free of thought in a way neither of them could be when in the public light. Tendrils of anxiety blossomed in her gut, fighting for purchase amid the fatigue already settled in her bones.</p><p>Lilly saw the moment Veronica decided what was needed, grim determination settled in the lines of her eyes and mouth.</p><p>“You know they’re going to bring it up, right? Try to dismiss you by painting this as an emotional overreaction?”</p><p><em>She’s right</em>, Lilly knew. Veronica usually was.</p><p>She rolled her head back, stretching her neck and reached a hand to massage the knots in her neck and shoulders.</p><p>“I know they will, V. Wallace let me know he’s already heard some whispers in Congress. Sent me an email a couple of days ago to prepare for it.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Her voice was a whisper, a revenant acknowledgment of their shared history and pain.</p><p>Bringing her hand to her lap, Lilly clenched her hands into fists and willed her frustration to run out of her as easily as her feigned indifference.</p><p>“Duncan… Piznarski… any of the numerous others we’ve dealt with, Veronica, what does it matter? Let them paint me however they like. As long as we get this bill passed I don’t care what they say about me.”</p><p>“God, Lilly.” She said her name with a kind of frustrated awe that only Veronica was ever able to do. “God, I hate this.”</p><p>Lilly quirked her brow, a smile playing on her lips. “You liar. You love this.”</p><p>“Shut up, Lilly,” she laughed out, dropping her head to the desk. “I need a nap.”</p><p>“Go to bed, Madame Vice President.”</p><p>Lilly leaned across the desk again, giving her friend an affectionate punch on the shoulder. The presidential desk really was ridiculously big. She shouldn’t have to basically stand on her tiptoes to reach across the length of it.</p><p>“We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. So go recharge and I’ll see you in four hours.”</p><p>Veronica stood, circling around the chair before placing her hands lightly on the backrest. “You get some sleep, too, Lilly.” She turned and walked to the door before turning to throw a wave and smile back behind her. “See you in four hours, Madame President!” she called as she disappeared down the hall.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And this is the third and final installment of operation Cheer Up My Friend!! Hope others enjoy it as well. :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t technically part of her job… though Mac couldn’t tell you what <em>did </em>fit in her job description. But she thought if she could take a little bit of stress off her boss’s shoulders, she should do it.</p><p>And that’s how Mac found herself going through the President and Vice President’s emails every morning.</p><p>There was the usual spattering of information coming from Congress that Mac marked as important and set aside for the two leaders to look at themselves.</p><p>She went ahead and deleted the few threats that managed to pass through the Secret Service screeners.</p><p>And you would be surprised by just how much junk mail gets sent to the leader of the free world and her VP.</p><p>Doing a second scroll-through, a subject line caught her eye. It contained the date and time of President Kane’s next public appearance. Mac opened the email, curiosity warring with an ever increasing sense of dread.</p><p>She scanned through the contents of the email and ice grew in her gut with every word she read. She was out of her chair and halfway down the hall without bothering to read the final lines, let alone watch the video attachment at the bottom.</p><p>---</p><p>Logan’s only modicum of relief came from Mac’s surprising foresight to bring the threat straight to him. He could only imagine if the VP, or god forbid <em>President</em>, had seen this before him. He would be forever grateful to Mac for giving him these blessed few hours to make a game plan before bringing it to the President and VP’s attention.</p><p>He rounded the corner to the conference room and found his whole team already gathered. Another small blessing for which to be thankful. Casablancas was reviewing the footage Mac sent over, Ratner looked as if he had already reviewed the footage and was scribbling something on a notepad and Gant was waiting for him at the door.</p><p>They were a small team, but it was all he needed… usually. Days like today made him wish he had a few more bodies in his inner circle. Luckily, the secret service was not lacking said bodies and he had already assigned three extra to each woman.</p><p>Considering it had been hours since he made that assignment, he was surprised a certain pesky charge of his hadn’t already broken down his door demanding an explanation. He decided to count it among the days blessings rather than questioning the silence.</p><p>Gant handed him a folder and he flipped it open, scanning through the meager information his team pulled together.</p><p>Glancing at Gant, he questioned: “Is this all?”</p><p>“Whoever sent the threat covered their tracks well,” Ratner offered from his spot at the conference table.</p><p>“The email was encrypted end to end, bounced all over the world to hide the original IP address, and the video is made up of images pulled from all across the internet.” Casablancas offered. “Nothing original except the subtitles and the flashes of the President’s schedule for the next two weeks.”</p><p>Logan crossed to the table, taking a seat next to Casablancas to review the video again.</p><p>“And the details given in the email, it’s all accurate?”</p><p>Gant nodded. “Somehow, they gained access to her private schedule. Route, lodging arrangements, even a detailed breakdown of the timeline.”</p><p>“We need to find that leak immediately.”</p><p>“Sir,” Ratner tapped his pen rapidly on the arm of his chair, “you’ve seen the demands?”</p><p>Nodding, Logan turned back to the folder. “Kill the bill or there will be a coordinated series of attacks on the President’s life.”</p><p>“When you put it that way, it sounds incredibly simple.”</p><p>“It is simple, Gant.” Casablancas stood up, stretching his arms up and popping his back. “The threat might be simple, but none of the rest of it is.” Turning his head side to side, he stretched out and popped his neck next. “We can’t confirm multiple suspects but we can’t rule it out either. And we have no guarantee changing the President’s schedule will protect her since we don’t know how the suspects got the information in the first place.”</p><p>“That’s just like you, Dick,” Ratner flicked his pen in Casablanca’s direction, “always bringing down the mood.”</p><p>“There is one thing we know,” Gant offered. “The group has a name: the Guardian Collective.”</p><p>“What do we know about them?”</p><p>“Not enough. Their online history only goes back to last year and until yesterday the activity was minimal. A post or two on Twitter, a Facebook group with minimal followers… as of yesterday a webpage popped up but the email address attached to all the accounts leads nowhere.”</p><p>Logan leaned back in his chair with a sigh. A certain nosy someone would not be happy with their current information situation.</p><p>“So,” Casablancas finally returned to his seat. “What now, boss?”</p><p>Rolling his eyes at the antics of his group, Logan considered the necessary steps.</p><p>“Gant, keep digging on the group. Casablancas, I want you to cancel the President’s events for the time being and run an advanced security scan. Ratner, work on securing the servers. Reset passwords and devices, you know the drill. And someone figure out how they got into the servers in the first place.”</p><p>His team, directives given, left to start on their assignments. Logan collapsed his head into his arms, mind whirling with a thousand scenarios of what could, or would, or might go wrong. Death threats were a dime a dozen. As popular as the current President was, making someone unhappy enough to hate you was the name of the game in politics.</p><p>This threat, though… there was something about it that felt different. Maybe the detailed knowledge of the President’s movement. Maybe the careful way in which all trace of those who sent it was obscured. Maybe it was the request: direct and menacing in both demand and threat of follow-through.</p><p>Though Logan had the utmost confidence in the men working below him, he felt this particular threat rated something more, someone more. And he had an idea of just who to recruit.</p><p>---</p><p>“Lilly,” Veronica called from her place on the couch across the room from Lillly’s desk.</p><p>Without breaking the staring contest she was having with the papers in front of her, Lilly offered a curt “what?”.</p><p>Veronica read over the press release introduction again, solidifying her concern that the whole announcement felt off, though she still couldn’t place why.</p><p>“Do you think we’re too impersonal?” she finally asked, setting the speech down on the coffee table in front of her.</p><p>Lilly didn’t look up from her desk. “What?”</p><p>“In this press briefing, updating on the status of the bill. We’ve got statistics, mention the last three cases where section 2 may have prevented or mitigated the incident… I’m wondering if you should mention Piznarski here instead of moving on? Show why this is so personal for us, for you?”</p><p>Lilly finally looked up, eyes hard. “You want me to mention what happened in college?”</p><p>“It’s not like mentioning it will make our case any worse,” Veronica shrugged. “Plus, it’s a good anecdote. And it might throw the media vultures off Duncan for a little while.”</p><p>Lilly took a moment to consider, doubt playing across her face.</p><p>“Look,” Veronica added, leaning across the desk, “if bringing up what happened keeps it from happening again… well, I say we don’t hold back. Besides, you’re the one always telling me to play the political game. So, let’s play!”</p><p>A smile danced at the corner of Lilly’s lips and then she nodded. “Veronica Mars, I’m impressed. Looks like I’ll make a politician out of you yet.”</p><p>Rolling her eyes, Veronica leaned back and added a note to the document to remind Lilly to tell the story of Stosh Piznarski, jilted stalker turned mass shooter.</p><p>Over the next hour, the duo tossed ideas back and forth, revised the press briefing further, until they ended with a neat 15 minute speech that wasted not one single word. Veronica beamed at the page as she dropped it to the top of the pile.</p><p>With Lilly’s approval, she left the office for a brief reprieve. Though having a hand in something with the potential to change the course of a nation gave Veronica a thrill she could hardly get anywhere else, it was taxing and exhausting work. Usually, at moments like these, she would seek out some mental stimulation of another kind, and she longed to find her verbal sparring partner to blow off some steam.</p><p>She noticed the extra men in the hallway immediately. The Secret Service was always around, always monitoring, but they tended to stay on the sidelines. They were easy to ignore. But now? Veronica felt a tingling in her spine and she knew something was wrong.</p><p>How long had there been extra men watching them? How long had he known something was happening and not let her know? How could he keep something this big a secret? She was definitely going to find her sparring partner now, and he was going to wish he’d found her first.</p><p>---</p><p>Logan could feel her coming before he heard or saw her. The energy in the air crackled and shifted and when she rounded the corner in front of him, he could swear there was an actual aura radiating from her. It took all his training and years of hard taught resolve to keep him from stepping back a pace as she approached.</p><p>“You <em>coward</em>!”</p><p>“Skipping the pleasantries today, I see?”</p><p>“How <em>dare</em> you not inform me <em>immediately</em>!”</p><p>Her chest rose and fell with every sharp breath she took and he had to shake himself back to an appropriate train of thought. Then it occurred to him: she was being entirely too vague with her accusations and he had a strong hunch he knew why.</p><p>“Not inform you of what, Madam Vice President?”</p><p>“Don’t you start that shit with me, you know full well <em>what</em>.”</p><p><em>Gotcha</em>. It was just like her to seek him out like a bloodhound at the first scent of trouble, without pausing to collect information on just what the trouble happened to be.</p><p>“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”</p><p>She was vibrating with the effort to contain her rage, now, and he almost regretted poking the already swarming beehive.</p><p>“You absolute, uncontested, <em>coward</em>!”</p><p>“I believe you used that one already.”</p><p>“Stop playing dumb, I know you’ve assigned extra men.” She thumbed over her shoulder, indicating the two blundering buffoons he’d put on her. He would have to have a talk with them about the “secret” part in the Secret Service. “You’ve <em>never</em> assigned extra men without discussing it with me first. You had better explain yourself.”</p><p>“I don’t actually report to you.” He could’ve kicked himself. His stupid mouth was going to get him into so much trouble. “But,” he tried to soften his approach, put her in a more receptive frame of mind, “I do happen to have this briefing here I was just about to deliver to Madam President, if you’d care to join me.”</p><p>The look in her eyes told him he was lucky not to lose the hand currently waving the threat briefing just out of reach. He knew he was antagonizing her. He knew he would pay for it later. But he also knew he needed a few extra minutes of composure before dealing with the fallout of telling the two most bullheaded spitfires he knew that someone was trying to blackmail them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoyed! There is more to come, pinky promise, I just don't know when.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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